Chapter 4
It was time for my appointment with Blake Harrison again; I awkwardly tugged at my skirt hem and entered his office once more.
After entering, I followed his instructions and removed my loose outer coat.
He still looked impeccably dressed, head raised, staring directly with playful eyes at my outfit today.
He placed the chair I sat in between his legs, gesturing for me to sit.
I clutched my report, taking small steps to avoid flashing anything.
“Why so shy?”
Blake Harrison chuckled; when I was a few steps away, he suddenly pulled me into his lap.
I lowered my eyes, pretending to be scared.
One hand gripped my chin, the other reached under the chair.
A “click” sounded, and suddenly my lower body felt cool.
The chair had a hollow center!
His hand quickly reached in; I trembled involuntarily.
He smirked even more playfully, his other hand flipping open my report.
On the last blank page, his bold handwriting read:
“After work, wear the clothes I sent you and come to the office.”
He pressed against my back, hot breath on my ear:
“I'll check if our Emily has been a good girl and listened to the boss...”
As he spoke, he reached into my clothes and under my skirt.
I endured the discomfort, my voice mosquito-like:
“Mr. Harrison... can we not do this?”
The man paused, then intensified:
“Why? Doesn't Emily like it?”
I bit my lip hard, burying my hate-filled face low:
“Is the boss doing this because he likes me?”
“Of course—I like every one of you.”
He greedily curled his lips, flipping me over so my back was against his desk.
“The boss likes young, pretty college girls like you the most.”
His forearm hooked under my knees, slowly leaning down to kiss my chest.
I grew anxious—if this continued, not only would I fail to get a confession, but my situation would become more dangerous.
When Blake Harrison tried to remove my last barrier, I suddenly struggled, with real tears and hatred:
“Please, let me go! Boss, please!”
I fell to the floor; in the chaos, I even slapped him hard across the face.
“You beast! Let go!”
Blake Harrison froze, then laughed disdainfully:
“You think you're so capable?”
“I've played with so many female students—didn't they all end up obeying me?”
He opened the nearby computer, clicking to pull up surveillance footage.
He had cameras installed in the office, recording indecent videos of all the girls.
He used these videos to threaten and lure them deeper into the abyss, with no way back.
I glared at him with red eyes; he didn't care:
“At first, they looked at me with eyes like yours—didn't they all submit in the end?”
“I've seen too many girls like you. I advise you to drop that ridiculous pride. In a way, I'm your benefactor.”
“You think you got into our company because of what? If not for your... assets... would I hire you?”
Blake Harrison eyed my disheveled, exposed state greedily:
“If you don't use your strengths to serve us, what will you do later—get played by others anyway!”
“Look now—using your body to work—isn't that a respectable job?”
“And aren't you all coming to me willingly?”
I shivered uncontrollably, not expecting Blake Harrison to be this perverted—this was a full criminal chain.
And our bodies were the merchandise on display...
I couldn't help touching the star pendant hiding the recorder, my temples throbbing.
Blake Harrison suddenly narrowed his eyes, glancing at the pendant in my hand:
“Speaking of which, you remind me of a previous girl—not sure how...”
He rubbed his chin, saying casually:
“Too bad she wasn't obedient—didn't get to play enough before she died, hahahaha...”
His cruel lips curled high, his ugly face twisting before me.
I felt like falling into an ice pit.
Mia...
Mia didn't commit suicide...
He sneered, tossing a black card on the floor:
“This Saturday night, 8 PM, Room 802.
Don't be late—this is your first 'client.'”